


Not The Weirdest Thing Dean's Ever Had On His Nipples

by RavenGrey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Frottage, Humor, Incest, M/M, Nipple Play, Pie fetish, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenGrey/pseuds/RavenGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean does odd things when he's hammered. Odd, horribly sexy things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not The Weirdest Thing Dean's Ever Had On His Nipples

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magicbubblepipe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicbubblepipe/gifts).



> Right, I've no explanation for this, except that it's around one in the morning and my inhibitions are gone, so this blatant monstrosity was born. I'll likely regret it come morning, but for now, I regret nothing. Also, you pushed me to this, magicbubblepipe. You pushed me to this.

           The thick, sugary slices of baked apple were almost too warm against the skin of his nipples, sliding down messily and leaving smears of cinnamon and brown sugar down his chest. Dean watched on hungrily, green eyes alight with fevered delight; an obvious tent in his jeans while he sat between Sam’s parted knees.

            He’d barely been out of the shower for five seconds when Dean had jumped him, a crazed gleam in his eye and apple pie in his hand. He’d been shoved to the bed, naked from the waist up, and assaulted with pie.

            Dean’s pupils were blown wide, thin slivers of green vibrant against the black and his lips were parted as he drew ragged breaths.

            A particularly promiscuous bit of apple caught on his pert nipple and stayed there, perched jauntily on the erect flesh. Sam was confused and unwillingly aroused.

            “Really? Fucking really?” Sam asked, voice deadpan and expression part disgust and part horrified curiosity.

            “Fucking really.” Dean agreed wholeheartedly, voice low and raspy, leaning in to lap at the trail of cinnamon with his tongue. A shiny trail of spit was left, cutting a clear path through the thick syrup of the pie. Sam’s breath caught, Dean’s tongue incredibly warm against his shower heated skin, and bit the inside of his cheek to hold back the quiet sound that had built in his throat.

            A dangerous gleam in his eye, Dean teased the raised edge of Sammy’s nipple with his tongue, brushing briefly against the apple slice before catching it with his teeth and pulling it into his mouth.  

            “Seriously,” Sam gasped out, back arching slightly into the touch “on a scale from one to that hobo that tried to assault you under the bridge, how drunk are you?” Sam’s hands dug into the sheets, gripping tight when Dean scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin in an attempt to get every last bit of the sticky sugar off.

            His tongue followed the scrape of teeth and a shocked moan slipped free of Sam when’s Dean’s mouth closed over his sticky nipple. Dean stopped long enough to reply “that hobo who tried to assault me under the bridge.” before returning to his task with fervor.

            Sam whistled lowly, debating whether or not to stop the travesty that was currently occurring. Sam’s cock gave a half interested twitch and he gave it a disgusted, betrayed sort of look that did nothing to stop the fact that he found this vaguely arousing.

            When he’d cleaned the last bit of pie of Sam’s left nipple, he moved to the right, mouth closing over Sammy’s entire nipple and sucking hard. Sam’s hand found the back of Dean’s head despite himself and he pressed up into the touch.

            “This is sick, Dean, you are one sick cookie.” Dean looked up smugly, smirking widely up at the increasingly aroused Sam. “ S’it’s pie.” Sam groaned half exasperation, half the fact that Dean had just gripped him through his pants, fingers sticky and unforgiving against the denim.

            Dean nibbled a bit of crust off Sam’s stomach, where it had dribbled down, and moved to straddle Sam’s broad thigh, grinding down on it while rubbing Sammy quick and messy through his jeans.

It didn’t take long, before Dean was coming on top of Sam, still completely clothed and panting hard, mouth closed over Sam’s now clean nipple. Sam followed seconds after, coming in his boxers and jerking Dean up for a bruising kiss, the taste of apples and cinnamon heady on his tongue.

Breaths coming in quick pants against Dean’s lips, Sam rode out the aftershocks of pleasure, hands fisted in the front of Dean’s shirt. It took a minute or two, but by the time he’d caught his breath, Dean was snoring against his face, reddened lips mushed against Sam’s cheek.

With a fond snort he shoved his moron onto the other side of the bed and slithered out, knees just a little wobbly, and pulled off Dean’s boots before tucking him in. With that done, he grabbed a pair of boxers out of his duffle and went to take another shower, as his nipples were still rather sticky.  


End file.
